Sisters Staci and Brianna long disappointed by boyfriends began selling them to slave dealers.

Their bodies and minds matured early. During adolescence they discovered their power over boys. Teasing male libidos, twisting men in knots, building up foolish hopes became their favorite sport.

Neither young woman could take men seriously. Males could not distinguish being in love from being in heat. They giggle and chant, “Boys are stupid!” often while a rejected suitor watched and blushed.

Physical beauty is a superpower. Staci and Brianna felt no shame in using their looks to manipulate stupid males. Men paid for their clumsy lust.

Gifts and meals were enjoyed as what they were due. Jewelry and dinner did not win any favors. Some were grateful to receive a momentary smile. (Silly males never saw the contempt behind the curved lips.)

Bisexual, the sisters felt no guilt in making love with one another. They also enjoyed sex with men. Either could seduce a man with a glance.

Men could not keep up with the women. Staci and Brianna had unlimited sexual stamina.

Exhausted by the sisters, men too quickly fell asleep. Continuing disappointment with men made them angry.

And see men as inferior. As much as men cared about sex, few of them were talented lovers. None could sustain erections long enough to satisfy the sisters.

By good fortune the women discovered the Femdomonomic Underground. They met professional Mistresses, slave trainers and male slave dealers.

Staci and Brianna decided to sell their inadequate lovers. When men grew tired, their penises flaccid, the women offered them a special drink. They promised it would revive their depleted passion.

Instead of making the men hard, the drink put them to sleep. Men passed out in the arms of beautiful women. They awoke in cages, facing very different women. Women with whips – professional Femdom slave traders.

For most of the men, it was the end of their sex lives. The slave traders locked their penises. Their Mistress Owners would keep them locked. Slave men did not deserve orgasms. Only the discipline necessary to keep them at their assigned chores.

Selling unworthy lovers into slavery is profitable. Staci and Brianna travel the world. They meet and enslave men of every ethnic group and economic status. Men are men. The details do not matter. Nor do the men’s fate.

Retiring after decades as a professional Femdom slaver, Mistress Kelly turned to good works. She dedicated her life to punishing wicked men.

A scattered network of friends and supporters notify Mistress Kelly of aggressive, rude and abusive behavior by men. Hateful males, men who annoyed women pay for their offences. Agents kidnap these men. Their lives of freedom end.

Mistress Kelly’s specialty had been forced-feminization. Many wives had paid to have their husbands turned into maidservants.

Now she transforms bad husbands and bully boyfriends into sissy slaves. By overexaggerating supposedly female qualities, Mistress Kelly turns men into cartoon imitations of men.

White collar executives wake to find their bodies changed. Breasts and lips stuffed with silicone. (The breasts are so heavy that they strain sissy slaves’ backs.) In her own words, she turns them into “parodies of bimbo whores.”

The slave’s wrists are locked to a pole. Mistress inserts a gag. No one wants to hear a slave whine.

Rope wraps around the sissy’s neck. A handle eases the tightening of the rope. Sissy struggles for air. A further tightening, and breathing is impossible. Sissy faints. Bonds release. The slave falls to the floor.

Two sissies have watched this torture. They get an unwelcome foretaste of what they are about to suffer. Each choked and strangled in turn.

Choking sessions erase any feelings of independence. Sissies learn the fear that all males should feel for their Mistress Owners.

Mistress Slavers run through their inventory of tortures and humiliations (see Femdomnomy’s slaver archives). The force-feminized slaves learn to accept a life of degradation and misery. The proper fate of all the inferior gender.

Minds purified. Wholesome habits of servility inculcated, the sissy slaves are sent to auction.

Subtle dissatisfaction marred her life. Something was missing or wrong. Never had she been able to discern source of her discontent.

She shed the mysterious ache at the gym. She worked her muscles to exhaustion. She left tired; her mind empty.

About three months ago, she noticed that a couple of her gym visits overlapped with a group of three women. They were not standoffish but seemed to take so much pleasure in each other to notice the other women.

She envied their camaraderie. Eventually she chose a station nearer to the women.

Their conversation was shocking. Mostly they talked about tormenting and punishing men. Often they referred to men as slaves. Their main hobby seemed to be humiliating men.

Soon she began remembering dreams in which she hurt her husband. She kicked him, laughed and kicked him again. She felt these were old dreams that hitherto vanished when she awoke.

She was so excited. But confused. How could she actually do any of this?

At the gym, she desperately wanted to talk to the three women. But asking strangers about her weird desires seemed too embarrassing. There talk might have just been private jokes.

Finally she felt she had no choice. After she spoke, the women looked at her as if she had not shared the gym with them for months. They had not worried about being overheard.

They resented the curiosity of people seeking a secondhand thrill. But she seemed sincere. Following a bit of Q&A, they accepted her.

All of them had periods when they faced up to their true nature and came out. She should feel no shame. Her dominance and sadism could bring her many worshippers. Many men were desperate to serve a Mistress.

Talking of her husband, they advised feminization followed by public humiliation. If that did not crack his ego and bring out submissiveness, she would best divorce him. No Domme should waste her time with a vanilla man who will not be ruled.

She had often wondered why she married her husband. He was not a bad man. Merely a very dull one. When he returned home that day she looked at him and saw prey. Thinking back that was probably always in her mind. She married him because she wanted to hurt him.

Their marriage had been an unfulfilling waste.

When he came home the following day, she told him she had bought him some new clothes.

He was baffled by the outfit. His wife told him to put it on; she would help.

Cuffs locked around his wrists. He started to speak but she slapped him in the face. She told him to keep silent. He was too scared to disobey.

His panic increased as she shoved his legs into high heel boots.

She locked him to a post. She re-tightened his corset. He could barely breathe. He tried to speak a couple of times but she slapped him into silence.

She stood back examining her husband. He looked so beautiful. Not that he was pretty. It was his helpless fear that made him seem radiant. This is what she needed.

The doorbell rang. Telling him that they had company, she went to answer the door.

Her friends from the gym had arrived. They had brought a few other Dommes.

With them were wigs, cosmetics, frilly lingerie and garish dresses. Her husband would put on a one-person sissy fashion show.

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You hear a favorite song playing. You start humming the tune. You feel a happy tingle, lifting your mood.

A professional Femdom slaver cannot hum the moans of the men she trains. Moans, groans, whimpers and sobs are the background music of her working day.

Slavers barely notice the noise but are cheered by it. Sadistic women relish the sound and sight of male misery.

Cruel women see torn skin, bloody welts, tears and old scars as beauty marks. Men are attractive only when they suffer.

Femdom slavers are fortunate. The joys of their labors exceed the value of their fees.

A slaver enjoys an endless stream of men to torture. Once broken – “trained” – a man is sold. A new man, hitherto innocent of suffering, enters her dungeon. His innocence will die under her whip.

Submissen

Men’s training finishes before slavers become bored with them.

The Dommes lashe and lecture the novice slaves. Slop on the floor replaces home cooked meals. Locked in a metal tube penises no longer give pleasure.

Sex and romance become lonely frustration.

He learns to fear women. Fear ensures obedience.

He sees other men bound and whipped. Learns how pathetic he looks when he is the one being beaten. Seeing them makes him realize there is nothing special about his fate. He is only a commodity: something bought and sold.

The slaver becomes the center of the slave trainee’s life. She acquires the status of a deity. The day of his sale is traumatic. It is as if his Goddess is casting him out.

Being sold to an unknown woman is terrifying. She may want him merely as a servant. Perhaps a sex slave. Or merely an object to suffer for her entertainment.

Mistress Owners often play mind games with their new slave men. The cruelest women temporarily disguise themselves as maternal mentors.

The women who kidnap and sell men into slavery are an individual and idiosyncratic group. Some simply want the money: cash for men. Others feel enslaving men is an important contribution to female supremacy: taking away men’s freedom, converting them into chattels, brings the day closer when women will own the world.

Femdom slavers develop their own methods and techniques. All involve a mix of physical and emotional suffering. Scars of body and mind mark a man who has forever lost the possibility of self-determination.

He was a person; now he is a thing. Something owned and used by the superior gender. He will be discarded if unsatisfactory. Replaced when broke. Abducting, training, selling men is an important part of the Femdomonomic economy and the Femdomosophic lifestyle.

Mistress Viehisch is proud of the simplicity with which she trains men to serve as women’s slaves. Her main tools: corporal punishment (cane, tawse, hairbrush) and exhaustion. And uncertainty.

Mistress Viehisch beats and whips him. She says nothing. There are no explanations. Only pain.

A lash to his lips teaches the man to not ask questions. His life’s goal is minimizing his suffering. He cultivates an obsequious demeanor. Keeps his head bowed, eyes averted.

Ignorant of her purpose, of how and why he came to be here, terror overcomes him. Her lash seems to always be cutting fresh welts. He cries until his tears are exhausted.

Never washed dry sweat and caked grime reinforces his feelings of impotence.

At irregular intervals between whippings and naps, she feeds him repulsive meals: boiled chopped liver and tofu floating in stale piss. At first he refuses to eat. Desperate hunger forces him to swallow the nasty filth against his will. He despises himself for not being able to resist.

Hitched to a cart, the slave trainee carries Mistress Viehisch along the boundaries of her secluded property. He walks the same paths repeatedly.

She brought a book and read as the slave walked. Sometimes she would bring a lunch and have a Picnic. She relaxed while the novice slave stood at attention. She in the shade; he in direct sunlight.

The aroma of her food. Her relaxed enjoyment added to his torment. He prays to her silently. Fear and deprivation cause him to worship his captor.

He pulls the cart until he collapses. Mistress Viehisch kicks his genitals until he rises and pulls the cart back to the barn. His universe is pain, confusion, hopelessness and exhaustion.

This routine lasts for at least a month. Horrible food, continual tiredness, whippings and pointless labor. He begins to forget his prior life. His new reality erases the old.

Mistress Viehisch says nothing. He still has no idea why she is doing this to him. Uncertainty is the worst torture of all. He stops wondering. Or thinking. He just is. A simple creature whose only goal is to survive until the next day. He does really want to live but sees no alternative.

The slaver sees his spirit has worn away. Hope dead. She has taken everything except fear and misery.

Now she explains. She is a professional slaver, she abducted him to train and sell him. He would be sold online.

He might become the property of a kindly Mistress Owner. Or be used for heavy labor until work wears him out and he dies.